


The Dreaming

by Winterling42



Series: Flesh and Blood and Dust [37]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 23:37:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11816568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterling42/pseuds/Winterling42
Summary: Furiosa dreams while she's awake.





	The Dreaming

Furiosa dreamed while she was awake. It was blurry, neither quite one state of being or the other. She knew the Wives came in and out, that the Mothers did the same. That she was being treated for her wounds, not killed for them.

That was what she knew was real. In the place that was not quite a dream, a dusty shadow stood guard by the door, her tail wagging slowly.

A man whose name she could not know rested the back of his hand on her forehead, murmuring reassurances and words that had no meaning. Furiosa turned, reached out with her whole hand despite the roaring fire in her side. She wanted him here, trusted him to watch her back. Her fingers brushed a threadbare shirt, thick with sand, real as pain. If she could remember his name, he would stay. She’d kept silent last time, and he’d left. If she could only say his name…

“Furiosa.” A voice cut the dream to pieces. The fool vanished – he’d never been there to begin with. She had known he wouldn’t come back. He was not the kind of person who came back, when his daemon was always running out away from him.

“Furiosa, you should try to keep still,” Annie’s wrinkled hands grabbed hold of her whole one, took the weight of screaming muscles and set her arm back down where it would cause the least amount of damage. “No need to make this thing worse than it is.”

She still couldn’t seem to get her eyes to focus. “How bad is it?”

The Mother didn’t answer for a moment, plucking at the edges of the bandages wrapping her chest instead of leather armor. “It’s not good,” Annie said. “But the fever’s broken. I think you have a chance.”

Furiosa had to think about her answer for a long moment. “Good,” she said at last, wondering if it was. “How’s the Citadel?”

But she fell asleep before she could hear the answer. Or at least, in the waking dream, she could not understand it.


End file.
